Loyalty
by Healer Kira
Summary: True loyalty has to be gained- Of course, this rule doesn't apply to Count Bleck, as he tries to force Mr. L's devotion, resorting to impractical measures.


Loyalty

By Healer Kira

OoOoOoO

Down in the dungeon of Castle Bleck, there was a man, bound and beaten. Numerous cuts and bruises littered his thin form, all inflicted by the insane Count of the castle and his loyal assistant. The man wore a black strip of cloth across his eyes, acting as a mask, as well as a stained green bandana and torn black jumpsuit.

If you were to look to the back of the man, you would see his spine was covered in lacerations, his arms painfully stretched back, and awkwardly tied to his ankles.

The masked man took a deep breath, his eyes clenched shut. He had been locked in this place for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn't even remember what the warmth of the sun felt like; Hell, he couldn't remember much of anything, other than the burning pain and suffocating darkness.

The sound of heels against stone reached his ears. His eyes shot open, revealing silver orbs plagued by weariness and fear.

The man took another deep breath and stretched against the ropes as much as he could, mentally preparing himself for the round of torture that was sure to come. A scratch-scratching, the sound of pen against paper was heard over the click-clack of heels. He sighed.

There was absolutely no doubt now that Count Bleck and Nastasia were coming to torture him again. Nastasia was always scratching away on her clipboard, and the Count made no sound, having no lower body.

The door was thrown open silently, cracking against the stone wall. One set of footsteps made their way over to him, and the familiar silver cloak appeared in his line of vision. A gloved hand began carding through his filthy, knotted hair gently, almost lovingly.

"Mr. L…" Count whispered, an edge of venom to his voice. Mr. L flinched.

"Count Bleck finds himself becoming impatient with your defiance."

The mechanic couldn't help himself. He smirked, raising his head to stare boldly into the count's blood red eyes.

"Ah, what can I say? I've always been stubb-"

His words were cut of as the back of Bleck's hand met the side of his face.

"Don't you dare talk back to Count Bleck!"

He glared defiantly, his cheek already turning red. Instead of glaring back, the count raised a hand warningly and Mr. L flinched, returning his gaze to the floor.

Count Bleck smirked.

"Now then, continued Count Bleck, it has been exactly four weeks since you rebelled, yet it seems nothing has broken you,"

The mechanic said nothing. _Only a month… _It seemed more like a lifetime.

"Since Count Bleck's and Nassy's techniques haven't been doing the trick, the count has decided to call upon one of his minions for assistance…"

Mr. L breathed in sharply. Surely he didn't mean-

"…Dimentio."

He wasn't usually one to swear, but he did so now, mentally cursing every and any deity that could possibly hear him.

_Fate must hate me._

Even though he had spent only a few days with the minions before seeing Bleck's brutality and trying to kill him, he knew of Dimentio. The vile jester who always wore a painted smile. The cruelest and most insane ever known. They said he could break his enemy's strongest men in less than a day, without even breaking a sweat. Of course, also of how no one had ever come out one of his sessions with their sanity intact…

Mr. L forced himself out of his thoughts, glancing up and seeing the count watching him with a smirk. He felt the expression of fear on his face, and quickly wiped it to a blank mask.

Count Bleck was still smirking as he walked from the cell, Nastasia following close behind with an apologetic look to the mechanic. He closed his eyes as he heard the footsteps slowly fade.

The masked man relaxed, then grimaced, tensing as the pain of his cuts, lashes and restrained muscles once again flared up. In his fear, it had been forgotten, but now that Bleck was gone, there was nothing to distract him from the pain that encompassed his entire being.

Silence reigned for a time; an eternity to Mr. L. With every twitch or attempt to stretch, the throbbing of his wounds increased. Yet despite his discomfort, the man eventually drifted off, dreaming of nothing but peace. No pain, no Bleck, just the comforting abyss.

Of course, this didn't last for long.

He could feel cool air blowing into his right ear and back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

"Stop it…" he groaned. The blowing continued. Still half-asleep, he irritably swatted at the presence. The blowing stopped and he sighed in relief.

Something about the motion set off alarm bells in Mr. L's head, but he ignored them, trying to drift back in the realm of dreams.

The mechanic soon became aware of the cool wind blowing into his left ear.

Growling, he opened his eyes, only to see a black and white mask floating directly above him. With a yelp Mr. L scrambled back, his back hitting the wall with a painful shot of agony.

It was then he realized that his bindings were gone, the only indication they had been there in the first place being the rope burns around his ankles and wrists. His eyes darted to the door- closed, dang it- before darting back to the jester still hovering overhead.

Dimentio landed with a thump, walking leisurely towards him.

"Ah ha ha ha…So you awake, like a grumpy child preparing for school."

The pleasure and coldness in the jesters golden eyes showing through the crescents of his painted mask struck Mr. L with a fear he had never felt before.

"I suppose I need to introduce myself. Dimentio, master of dimensions, pleaser of crowds."

He gave a mocking bow, never breaking eye contact.

"Let's get started, hmm?"

For the entire month Count Bleck had tortured him, he had never screamed, not once, never letting the count ever have the pleasure.

His screams echoed far into the night, guttural, pleading shrieks that only made the jester laugh with glee.

OoOoOoO

"I swear my life, and my loyalty to Count Bleck. Never will I betray him, in any way, shape or form. I will follow all order to the best of my abilities…"

Mr. L let the words fall loosely off his tongue, speaking the oath perfectly with no mistakes. His mind moved sluggishly, his voice weary.

Once it was finished, the count rewarded him with a nod and a smirk. He rose from his kneeled position and went to stand with the other minions.

Minions. There were three others. Mimi and O'Chunks, one a small childish female, and the other an Irish strongman. Complete opposites, Mr. L noticed with slight amusement. The small joy was gone in a moment, as he blankly listened to the count drone on about the heroes and plans and perfect worlds. The mechanic didn't really listen, lost in his own thoughts.

Dimentio's gaze bore into his back. Mr. L could feel the stare, like a freezing hand on the back of neck. It was disturbing, but he forced himself to ignore it.

The mechanic snapped to attention as his name was mentioned.

"…you'll be scouting in the Whoa Zone, alright?"

He nodded quickly, giving a short bow as well.

"Dismissed." Mr. L hopped from the platform, staring straight ahead, not meeting the eyes of any of the other minions.

All he wanted was the safety of his rooms, where he could sleep. In peace.

_OoOoOoO_

_Remember Evil is Made, Not Born? I think that was actually supposed to be this story…  
Look, I get distracted easily. Why do you think I can't listen to music while I write? I wrote the beginning sentence on the screen( the original is on paper) got distracted, forgot about the paper copy, looked at the theme, decided there was no reason for Mr. L to be tortured by Count Bleck, and came up with that other story.  
I kinda like this one more. It really was fun to write, and I enjoyed redoing an old story. _

_Anyways, Review!_


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